Pan Am in the Bowery Ballroom

What better place to shoot a Paris nightclub scene than on Delancey Street in downtown Manhattan... in the Bowery. The location scouts are so imaginative.

My suit-fitting session at Steiner Studios was very productive a few days ago when I got measured for a 1963 outfit: suit with open shirt -pants worn high. Very drab -a perfect fit for an ND background extra.
Steiner Studios are very well kept. They are clean, curteous and very professional there. More so than at my regular day-job. I was immensely impressed. It was also great to be back in my old college neighborhood... Pratt was not far away from here... but I decided this was not the time to visit. I had been an alumni guest there with my wife a few years ago -but memory lane would have to wait, there were other memories coming up.

Holding was at the historical St. Patrick's Old Catherdal on Mulberry Street. I read up on it a bit -as I like to know more and more about NYC's historical places (an extra benefit from this line of work). My preparation came in handy later during our discussions while walking to the set along it's long "protective" brick wall. I also recognized that this was the neighborhood that I had come to for my "Italian film debut" at the end of last year.

We all collected our altered clothings from the wardrobe department and changed behind a makeshift set of labariynthine arras setups. We all had to be styled with a 1963 haircut so we lined up for the looooong wait. But the chit chat made it bearable as our respective turns would eventually come up. My hair had to be done twice.

The first time it only got pasted down... and then as I passed by the head-hairstylist guy, he flagged me down and clipped a few more strands from the back of my duck-ass curls. When he finished with me I looked like an old time Brylcreem ad.
The women looked the best. They all got twinkly evening gowns with high waists and expressed decolletage -complemented by pageboy flip hairdos that were topped off with a pillbox hat! Did they really look like this in Paris 1963... I guess they must have since there were old magazine clips of 1963 people scotch-taped to the walls for reference.

We were taken to the set about 5 blocks away at the Bowery Ballroom -where another makeshift holding area awaited us. This time it was the basement bar -a welcome refuge for us after the very bright sunny walk through the hot summer day. In the basement it was dark and cool. We continued the chat as some of us got sporadically called to set upstairs. I got antsy after a few hours of sitting and not being called -and decided to walk up the steps that opened up to a two tiered dance club -complete with camera crew, directors and a bevy of extras. It was wonderful. But with the hours flying by and many of us not having been called up to set... well, I was having my doubts as to whether or not they were going to use all of us or not. So I accepted my probable fate and moseyed down to the basement to sit out the rest of the afternoon in Pan Am oblivion.

This proved to be a gross misconception on my egotistic part. Because soon after, we were all summoned to "center stage" and spread around the top floor's nightclub scenario. I was placed with one of the women near the bar area, where Colette, one of the "Pan Am stewardesses", played by Karine Vanasse is having a drink with a friend. Oh goody, at least I caught a glimpse of one of the stewardesses. At another part of a scene, I was placed at the bar itself and told to fraternize with the bartender and the guests around me -while smoking a cigarette. I don't smoke... but these were herbal cigarettes and we were not supposed to bring them near our faces or inhale -only for the effect of the 1963 predilection for smoking... everywhere! So I lit one up... then another... and another...and another... and Oh yeah, it was high-school memory time. The young bartender and I were bantering back and forth as the next scene was being set up. Between the scenes, we could take a break by going outside... into the brightness of reality that was Delancey Street. Many years ago, when I first came to this country with my parents, we would go shopping in this neghborhood. Clothes, shoes, tablecloths... all were bought the usual way: bartering. That world disappeared... this was now a shieky-trendy nabe on the fringes of the ever-expanding Chinatown -where young people would come to louder and louder exhibitions of rock-band euphoria... all the while smoking real cigarettes...et al.

A different pretty starlet, this time a blonde, with an English gentleman was now next to me. They chatted with us a bit (thereby releasing us from the "don't speak to the stars" restrictions). I mentioned my trip to England, to Lynne and Ouspensky's grave and the vicar there...etc. The Englishman picked up on the thread, but then the director (man with glasses... I assume it was Thomas Schlamme) called out "camera's rolling...and BACKGROUND!"
The pretty starlet turned out to be Anabelle Wallis -who was playing the part of Bridget -presently having an altercation with two men. There is some secret document being passed between the characters. But all the while, I just keep drinking my wine (cranberry juice) then chatting en francais with the barkeep, and later still with an African-American patron and oogling a girl having a drink a few seats away from me. That, basically was my silently-mimed moment of glory on this set.

[Flash-forward: The resulting scene was actually in episode #2 (aired on 10/2/2011) -and, as shown below (from a photo off my tv screen) -I barely got my profile into a quick shot with Bridget and her frantic pilot boyfriend chasing after a spy in the nightclub.]



While they were "checking the gates", I told Anabelle she did a great job with the script and descended to the dance floor. There must have been better than a half a dozzen scenes that we were all in. My odds of being seen on camera in this early episode have increased -though there are never any guarantees.
During one of the "wait for ACTION!" to be called moments, a rather stunning girl was placed in front of me. I saw the similarity in her face to one of my favorite actresses of the past, and asked her if anyone ever told her she looked like Ava Gardner.

"Who?" was the sincere reply... as my jaw dropped in surprise to her lack of familiarity with one of the greats. And so I turned to the guy next to me who was keeled over on the table in a "lack of sleep stupor" and I asked him:
"You know who Ava Gardner is... don't you?"... I might as well have been in a vacuum. He replied that he didn't know her either -and keeled right back into his restfull position. So I turned to the stunning girl and tried to explain it without any success. And it was at this point that I finally accepted being an anachronism... or at least trapped in the Hollywood Twilight Zone. But I could work with that -after all, it's part of acting strange.

In fact, we worked from 7:30 AM to about 12:30 AM... long... longer than I'd expected. But then one of the other women said that she had worked for this show last week and she didn't get home until 8:00 AM the following morning. Guess I got lucky. I got home at 3:30 AM.

Budapest theater experiences

Some 55 years ago, I was in the 3rd grade -on a class trip to a puppet theater in Budapest... my birthplace. We were shown to our seats in a very orderly fashion... the show started and we were mesmerized by the story that was taking place on the puppet stage.

Suddenly... the lights went off and there was complete darkness. In fact it seemed like a very long time that we were in a kind of "will the play continue?" limbo.

And then a very startling moment took place. The theater's giant doors flew open -revealing a tremendous bright light that eventually subsided as our eyes got used to the change, revealing everyone in the streets running in everywhich way... and then the terse announcement: "All of you can go home..." -Just like that, the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 was under way -but none of us in the class knew that. All we knew was that a moment ago there was order -and now there was utter chaos. I knew where I was and I knew where I lived -and so I started toward my home. Luckily, my parents were somehow aware of what had been happening and were en route to intercept me... We all made it home -only to become refugees in the following weeks.

And now, in the present day -I am standing in front of these doors that flung open to a new life. Needless to say, I did not go to see a puppet show here again.

But my wife and I did go to see a show at the Budapest Operetta and Musical Theater. And interestingly enough, the musical we saw "A Nice Summer Day", deals with a teenager's dilema to escape from post-1956 Hungary or to "stay in the boat". The boy stays and he is heralded as a hero for doing so. As this was a very popularly accepted sentiment with the audience, who clapped for 20 straight minutes, I couldn't help but reflect on my own situation -wherein I didn't have a choice. But I was glad that my parents made the right choice -to leave the unstable future that communist Hungary would become.

One burning question remained for me after all these past years... one that kind of haunted me -perhaps even made me act strange... the question being: What would my life been like, had my family stayed in Budapest?". I had all sorts of phantasies, such as a champion gymnast (I was always very flexible), or a champion chess grandmaster (although I learned chess at 5, I had abandoned it until my college years... in Hungary my "talent" might have burgeoned -yeah... "burgeoned")... etc.

But my question was slowly answered from the various discussions I had with people in Hungary while touring now in 2011. The answer was not a pretty picture. Many people were arrested after 1956 and sent either to prison or to Siberia by the Russians and their "puppet" government in Hungary. Those who came back from prison were not treated as heroes... not commemorated until the iron curtain was eliminated in 1989.

So this was a very revolutionary reconnection for me... plenty of emotion-stirring experiences for me to draw on... for fututre gigs... albeit not in the Budapest theater.

NYC Celebrities

We went to see Robin Williams in Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo -excellent acting work. Very charismatic. Also, it's clear that there's no end to Robin's generosity. A great human being all around.

David Beckham

I got this great snapshot of David Beckham after he gets interviewed outside ABC studios on Broadway.

Kiefer Sutherland

At another romp through New York City we decided to go snapping pics of actors et al. It's a simple formula: just hang out at the exit doors of Broadway shows (with all the autograph seekers) at the end of each show... and start clicking away with your digital zooming camera. Other places to hang out is in Times Square, near the ABC studios. Here are some of my latest photos of Kiefer Sutherland, Chris Noth, Chris Rock, Bobby Cannavale, Sam Champion, George Stephanopoulos, Jason Castro, Mario Andretti...

Chris Noth

Chris Noth was very friendly, occasionally grimacing a funny face when one of the people made a comment to him like, "Hey Mr. Big -is it really?". He'll never live down his Sex and the City role (what guy would want to?).

Chris Rock

Chris Rock posed with a couple of people -great attitude and very generous with his time. Everyone who wanted a photo or a signature eventually got it.

Bobby Cannavale

Bobby Cannavale continued to remain in character all throghout his signings: a kind of sad and dour effect. When he came near me, I asked him "Whatever happened to M.O.N.Y. that we were in -never picked up by NBC?" He immediately looked up and gave a sad acknowledgment of "Oh yeah..." and nodded as he passed on with his signing duties. So much for small talk!

Sam Champion and George Stephanopoulos of ABC's Good Morning America

Sam Champion was a lot more livelier than George. They were closing out the morning show on the day before the Royal Wedding in England in Times Square. Sam remained and posed with a couple of women after the signoff.

Constantine Maroulis

The Rock of Ages/American Idol-star was the friendliest when we got his attention. He constantly flashed the "rock-on" salute -popularized in the show. (I've always identified it with the "happy Hawaiian" hand gesture.)

Jason Castro at B.B. King's off Times Square

My wife and I went to see Jason and his band perform. We got front row tables and had a great time listening to his sound while munching on nachos with a couple of drinks.

Car raceing champion Mario Andretti

There he was with his IZOD promo and a 2-seater racing car in front of Macy's last week. I once got his autograph... more than 20 years ago (when his hair was still black), so it was a strange thrill to see him again in his graying stage of life -still in it, albeit from the business end.

OK... so I'm a groupie!

A Late Quartet… a very very late quartet

Christopher Walken

Call time was 4:30 PM –they wrapped us at 5:AM the following morning. But the excruciating part was that they didn’t use most of us for the first 7 hours. We just sat in holding at NYC’s Metropolitan Museum of Art’s lunch room area while the principals did their shtick in the theater section opposite the Egyptian papyrus drawings.

Philip Seymour Hoffman

I met up with a few of my background-buddies and camped out in the back of the non-SAG area. There were not enough chairs for everyone so we switched sitting and standing at opportune intervals. At times the banter flowed easily, at other times we were just gawking at the well dressed people and commenting on their attributes. Some of the young women had no problem with slinking in and out of their evening wear in front of a hundred people while still wearing their street clothes to cover any overexposure. Women are so clever… they know how to entertain us guys!

We had brown-paper bagged lunches at 9:00 PM, while the SAG-people had a hot catered meal. The familiar foment of the non-SAG masses began with a disgruntled murmur. So much so that our PA had to make a speech about this food/room-apartheid not being a class-distinction but rather a “fact of acting-life”. Yet another instance of “acting strange”! (Please note that I do not hate SAG people –I hate the class separation. Also, to be fair -for a SAG-point of view, please read Jennie's comments at the end of this blog entry).

The irony in all this was that we were all supposed to be dressed as high-style/upper-class patrons of the art, observing the performance of a highly successful string quartet. The quartet on the stage was composed of Philip Seymour Hoffman, Christopher Walken, Catherine Keener and Mark Ivanir. Yaron Zilberman was the director and Wallace Shawn had a part in the near-stage audience (the rest of us were far and fuzzy non-descript stage audiences).

Wally Shawn

But it was fun to watch the principals banter on the stage. Walken being the nuttiest with his usual “did my mind arrive yet” persona. A couple of giggles ensued when Hoffman tried too hard to play his viola and screeched a few sounds (none of them could really play –the music was all dubbed in the background). But the part that really irked me was that none of them showed any passion (didn’t even try to show how much the music was affecting them), in spite of their music coach… so where’s the acting!?. Mark Ivanir was the only one to pick up on how to move his fingers for a vibrato effect on his violin.

Mark Ivanir

Too bad their collective effort to show a top-class musical group in action, was really falling flat and it was obvious that none of them had any musical training. And Keener was constantly removing her shoes and rubbing her toes -even rolled down her stockings above her knees to the surprised guffaws of her fellow "musicians". Uptight with a bad fit, I’d guess.

Catherine Keener

The Takacs String Quartet (briefly referred to and badly mispronounced by Christopher Walken on stage) is most likely the group that this movie was modeled after. A short bio from their home page states: "The Takacs Quartet was formed in 1975 at the Franz Liszt Academy in Budapest by Gabor Takács-Nagy, Károly Schranz, Gabor Ormai and András Fejér, while all four were students. It first received international attention in 1977, winning First Prize and the Critics’ Prize at the International String Quartet Competition in Evian, France. The Quartet also won the Gold Medal at the 1978 Portsmouth and Bordeaux Competitions and First Prizes at the Budapest International String Quartet Competition in 1978 and the Bratislava Competition in 1981. The Quartet made its North American debut tour in 1982. Violinist Edward Dusinberre joined the Quartet in 1993 and violist Roger Tapping in 1995. Violist Geraldine Walther replaced Mr. Tapping in 2005. In 2001 the Takács Quartet was awarded the Order of Merit of the Knight’s Cross of the Republic of Hungary." Memento mori: In 1994, Ormai learned that he had incurable cancer -he died in 1995 at age 40. For his part, Christopher Walken plays the elder member of the quartet, who has developed Parkinsons Disease and who consequently in the middle of their playing, stands up and announces that he can't keep up with his members -then following it with the introduction of a replacement cello player. A little more banter with the audience as he throws a kiss to all and walks off stage right. Bravo! (Take 5...6...7...)

By 3:30 AM everyone in the audience was keeling over with sleep –and when the director said we could break for 5 minutes… well, the groans were just inescapable. And they were followed by “We don’t need 5 minutes –we need to go home!”. Apparently the powers that be eventually relented and by 5:00 AM some of us were in the street at 5th Avenue and 84th Street, hailing cabs, including me.

I thought that I could get home by catching a cab to Penn Station and hopping on a late-night train. Unfortunately I had just missed the 4:54 AM and had to wait over an hour before the next train was leaving toward my home’s destination. Needless to say I didn’t get any sleep. But it felt good to be home, say hello to my wife –change my clothes and leave for work. And I know I said this before… but now I mean it: NO MORE OVERNIGHT SHOOTS! (Really...)